Chapter Eleven

Would the pub door never open?

He had been waiting in his workshop for what seemed like hours, his eyes fixed on the door, trying to formulate the words he would say to Helen. It had taken all his resolve not to go and bang on the door the moment he got out of bed after a sleepless night. It wasn't just good manners that held him back. He had no idea what he would say to Helen. Or to Steph, for that matter, should he meet her. How hard must it be for both of them … staying at the same place where they were bound to bump into each other.

At last he saw movement across the road. Jack North opened the front doors of the pub. Ed was on his feet in a moment and heading across the road.

‘Morning, Ed.'

Jack didn't offer him a drink. He knew that wasn't what Ed was there for. Ed said a silent thank you that Trish and Syd were out of town. If Trish had been there, by now the whole town would have heard about his wife's return. Although, Coorah Creek being what it was, Ed guessed a lot of people knew even without Trish's help.

Ed walked through into the lounge. It was empty. The doorway that led to the pub's kitchen swung open, releasing a waft of delicious smells and a boy of about twelve carrying a plate of food.

‘Hi, Mr Collins.'

‘Hi, Harry. That your dad's breakfast?'

‘Yep. Mum's cooking. You want some?'

Jack's wife Ellen was known as the best cook in town. The pub was always extra busy when she took over from Trish in the kitchen.

‘I'm fine,' Ed said. ‘There are a couple of guests here at the pub. Is either of them having breakfast?'

‘Haven't seen them.' Harry vanished in the direction of the bar to deliver Jack's breakfast.

Ed hesitated. Totally unsure of what to do. He could hardly go upstairs and knock on Helen's door.

‘Hello, Ed.' Ellen appeared from the kitchen. ‘Are you looking for Helen?'

Ed nodded.

‘She didn't sleep here last night.'

‘Where …?' It was a stupid question and Ellen didn't answer. Of course Helen must have spent the night with Tia and Max. That was perfectly understandable. She must have wanted to get as far away from Steph – and from him – as she could.

‘Thanks.' Ed turned to leave and as he did, Stephanie appeared on the stairs. She looked as if she too had spent a sleepless night.

‘Ed.' Her tired face broke into a welcoming smile. Ed recognised that smile. Steph had smiled just like that when they were young and in love. His heart gave a small kick at the memory.

‘I talked to Scott last night,' he said quickly. ‘On the internet. He wants to talk to you.'

‘Oh …' Steph's face lit up. ‘That's wonderful. When? How?'

Ed hadn't thought about that. There was really only one answer. The pub had Wi-Fi, but it also had a lot of prying eyes. And he had no idea if Steph had a computer with her. They would have to do it on his computer. In his home.

‘Come over to the house tonight. After dinner. About eight o'clock.'

‘I will. Thank you, Ed. You don't know what it means to me to be able to talk to him after all these years.'

Steph was wrong. Ed knew very well how hard it was to reconnect with a distant child. He had done it just a year ago. Helen was doing it right now. It occurred to him that the three of them had so much in common, they should be friends. He looked at Steph closely. There were lines around her eyes, and her hair wasn't blonde any more. But she was still an attractive woman. At times, he could see the girl he had fallen in love with standing there and he didn't know how to handle that.

‘All right. I'll see you then.'

He abruptly turned and walked out of the pub.

He didn't even think about going back to the garage. It could look after itself for a few more minutes. He turned instead towards the small town square, the police station and the house behind it.

Halfway across the square he saw Max emerge from the police station, and he walked over to him.

‘Did Helen spend the night with you and Tia?' he asked as he stepped onto the station veranda.

‘Yes.'

Ed nodded. ‘We had … I had … Well, it's a bit …'

‘Yes, it is,' Max said. He didn't sound angry, but nor did he sound entirely sympathetic.

‘I thought … if I could talk to Helen.'

‘She's not here,' Max said. ‘She and Tia left very early this morning.'

‘Left?' Ed's heart sank. ‘When will she be back?' he asked, fearing the answer would be never.

Max shrugged. ‘They're heading back east. Shopping for a wedding dress, and who knows how long that will take. Tia has four days off, so we may not see either of them until she's due back at work.'

Ed walked back to the garage, his feet dragging and his head spinning. Four days before he could see Helen and explain to her. Four days for her to begin hating him.

‘I've decided I want an orange wedding gown. With a long purple veil.'

‘Whatever you …' The reality of what she had heard slowly seeped through into Helen's muddled thoughts. ‘What?'

Beside her, Tia spoke gently. ‘That's better. We've driven all day and you have barely said a word.'

Helen could hear the concern in her daughter's voice.

‘I am so sorry, Tia.' And she was. Buying a wedding dress with her daughter was something she had always dreamed of doing. During their years of estrangement, she had clung desperately to the hope that it might happen. And now it was. She should be enjoying the experience. Sharing Tia's happiness and not moping like a teenager over some man she hardly knew.

‘Don't be. There are times I have to wonder why on earth we even bother with men!'

‘That's a horrible thing for a girl to say when she's about to buy a wedding dress. Max is lovely.'

‘I know he is. I'm lucky to have him. And I'll tell you something else, Mum, Ed Collins is a good man too.'

Helen didn't answer.

‘One thing Max taught me is that you can't run away from the past. It's always with you because it's a part of making you who you are. But you can let go of it and take your life wherever you want.'

Helen cast a sideways look at her daughter. ‘That's the sort of thing a mother should be saying to her daughter. Not the other way around. When did you get to be so wise?'

‘It's Max rubbing off on me.'

The depth of the love and respect that was so obvious in Tia's voice almost brought a tear to Helen's eye. She was happy for Tia, and maybe just a little bit envious. Helen had never had the sort of relationship Tia had with Max. And she wasn't about to get it with Ed Collins. He was a married man, and his wife had come back. Helen believed in marriage. She had never been involved with a married man. That was just wrong. A marriage was not something to be lightly thrown away.

‘We're nearly there, Mum.'

Helen looked out of the window. The harsh dry flat plains she had been seeing all day had been replaced by gentle hills. There were trees and the grass was green. They were almost in Toowoomba now and houses were appearing. The homes were made of timber or brick. Most were surrounded by well-tended gardens. There were flowers and green lawns. The people who lived in those homes were, to Helen, affluent and very lucky. They had good jobs and never struggled to put food on the table. The women who lived there had their hair done whenever they wanted. They bought new clothes whenever they needed them. They didn't live in fear of what their men would do when they got home. They didn't spend their lives searching for the daughter they had lost. At least, not in Helen's dreams they didn't.

This was the sort of life Helen had always dreamed about, but never had. Yet now, it seemed far less desirable. Her mind flew to Coorah Creek's red soil and weathered buildings. Something about the sun-faded paint and the lonely cries of the crows had wormed its way into her heart. The very greenness around her now seemed strange. She had become accustomed to Coorah Creek's browns and reds. She had grown fond of the pub, with its delicate wrought iron. And the people in it. She had become used to waking up and glancing across an empty road to the garage. It was slightly grimy and worn, but none the less there was something appealing about it. And the man who owned it.

Helen pushed that thought away. Ed was married. There was nothing for her there. Just as with these lovely homes – appearances can be deceptive. There was probably heartbreak behind those walls, just as there was heartbreak across the road from the Coorah Creek pub.

The day was almost over, the light softening into evening and Tia was turning into the driveway of a motel.

‘You must be tired after all the driving,' Helen said. ‘I could have taken some of the load, you know.'

‘Mum, you we so distracted we probably would have ended up in Cairns instead of Toowoomba,' Tia joked. ‘It's fine. I like driving.'

‘Well, you need a good night's sleep. Because tomorrow we have a lot to do.' Helen vowed silently that tomorrow she would forget Ed Collins. And devote herself entirely to her daughter.